


A Custom Order

by primsong



Series: A Custom Vehicle [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Adventure, Bessie - Freeform, Custom Vehicle Series, Gen, Sci-Fi, Third Doctor Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primsong/pseuds/primsong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aliens, strange machines, a quarry and forgotten military tunnels in England! It must be Three and Jo again. Episode 2 for the Custom Vehicle series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While my first 'episode type' writing attempt, "A Custom Vehicle," was originally a standalone it appears it goes a little further than I thought... this is now the second episode in a three-parter. And yes, this Cold War era underground city really does exist in Corsham - truth is stranger than fiction. The numbering for the chapters reflects that it starts at the 7th chapter in this series.

**7.**

"Thank you, gentlemen, just set it down over there by my TARDIS," the Doctor directed as four burly UNIT men slowly worked their way into the lab, a large metal contraption between them in a sling. "Carefully, now."

"What is it, Doctor?" Jo asked, abandoning the pile of test tubes that she was supposed to be sorting for washing to peer at it curiously.

"That," he said with a small flourish, "Is why I couldn't put your case in Bessie's boot when we were coming back from Chippenham."

"Chippenham? That was a month ago. What is it?"

"It's a compact generator for the force-field. Those things take a tremendous amount of power, you know."

"Do they?"

"Yes. It's impervious to electromagnetic disruption, very handy but a bit hard to just carry around in your pocket."

"So it's a…giant battery?"

"Well, essentially, you could say so. In a simplified way. I thought I had one or two of them stashed away in the TARDIS, it just took me a while to find it. I have a smaller force-field generator on her already of course, but this allowed me to magnify it's effect to a more useful range." He nodded to the men as they filed back out. "You didn't notice she was riding a bit low? I'll need to do something about those shocks. Inefficient."

Jo smiled. Frustrated at being unable to repair his TARDIS thus far, he often took out his tinkering angst on the roadster so she was forever undergoing little modifications. She wondered if given enough time and a large enough part of UNIT's budget he might make that roadster half into a time-machine itself.

"Doctor! Good, you're here. I want a word with you." Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart strode in carrying a clipboard in his hand. "Good morning, Miss Grant."

"Good morning," Jo replied politely, going back to her test tube sorting but keeping her ears open.

"What is it? I'm busy," the Doctor said. He was examining the end of a connector that hung off the field generator and briefly glanced up.

The Brigadier was unfazed. He extended the clipboard of papers at his scientific advisor. "You remember that Babcock chap?"

"The aide from the Custom Supply? Of course I do."

"Well, take a look. Seems once he got used to the idea that there might really be other lifeforms out there, he went looking for more. He may have turned something up."

"Let me see that," the Doctor took it from his hands and flipped through the papers. "Still in the general area of Chippenham, interesting. And still using the Custom Supply requisitions to gather items." He considered. "Has this contact name been checked out?"

"A pseudonym," the Brigadier nodded. "Two of the current officer's names put together for familiarity. Not creative but efficient."

"And all deliveries have been made to this base?" The Doctor leaned on the workbench and rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "These orders…. This sort of thing could potentially be used for… Yes. Interesting. Very intriguing." He leafed through it again. "Just what… Or possibly… Hm."

"Possibly what?" asked the Brigadier impatiently.

"What? Oh, any number of things. Who can say? Not bombs, if that's what you're thinking. But… hm. I wondered when we might hear of something. The aliens we chased off from that old hall were information gatherers, after all. Mercenary spies, if you will. They had to leave without their living samples, but they'd still have had a valuable package to sell to whomever hired them to watch this area. It would include, for instance, how to defraud the British Defence Ministry for customized supplies."

"Valuable information."

"Yes, especially if their customers were not of humanoid appearance themselves. If they are unable to blend in with the population they would have a more difficult time finding ways of carrying out the commerce necessary for their basic needs or supplies."

"Well, stemming them should be fairly simple then. We simply notify the Supply to cease all shipments to this locale and stake out the base. Starve them out."

"It is to be assumed they've found a way to meet their physical needs," the Doctor noted dryly. "And we have no idea what those are."

"I spoke metaphorically."

"I thought that was my responsibility."

The Brigadier blinked and ploughed on. "Ah. Still, would it be likely that ending access to the supplies might bring them out of hiding, flush them into the open?"

"That partly depends on if they already have a sufficient supply for their purpose."

"And that purpose is…?"

"That's what we need to find out. Also, we don't know what the consequences will be of cutting them off at this point. They've had at least a month already. One thing is certain; it would tip them off that they've been discovered. Do you really want to so casually cancel out any element of surprise?"

The Brigadier tapped his swagger-stick thoughtfully. "True. A proper recon of the enemy should be carried out. But if they are, in fact, alien lifeforms…"

"Then that's more up my alley than yours."

"Oh I don't know. I think we're getting rather good at it."

The Doctor almost but not quite rolled his eyes. "Just give me some time before you send anyone in or notify the military. I don't want any strong-arming. Babcock didn't tell anyone else, did he?"

"No, not that we're aware of. Who else would take him seriously anyway?"

"Good. I'd like to drive down and take a look myself."

"Very well. But you aren't going in alone. I'll send an escort with you."

"I'm driving my own car."

"They can join you."

"I'll already have Jo with me," the Doctor said stubbornly. Jo perked up at this. Even if it was only to stave off the Brigadier, she was glad she didn't have to argue her way along. She really hadn't wanted to be left behind.

The Brigadier's face remained carefully neutral. "They'll follow in a jeep. Closely."

The Doctor jammed his hands in his jacket pockets with frustration. "Oh, as you like then." He thought about it a moment. "I'll have to start at that old hall in Chippenham. I think it may still hold some clues for us."

Lethbridge-Stewart gave a slight nod. "As you say."

\---

Jo looked over at the Doctor as they drove. He kept intently looking in the mirror at the UNIT jeep that was following behind them and hadn't spoken much, but she could tell he was up to something. She wasn't entirely surprised when, just as they were almost outside of London, he suddenly gunned Bessie right through a changing signal. Forced to wait, the jeep was stopped at the intersection behind them. The road curved around a set of buildings and once they were out of sight, he spun the wheel and ducked them into an alleyway.

Now grinning like a little boy, he maneuvered around a parked lorry, cut through an underground parking garage and popped back out into the sunlight, where he promptly sidled up beside a lumbering double-decker tourist bus and continued along in its shadow for several blocks heading back into the city. Jo kept glancing around but there was no sign of the jeep.

"Trap 1 to Trap 2, we've lost visual sighting," the radio crackled. "Please report location."

The Doctor grinned at Jo, his eyebrows communicating something she couldn't understand except it was gleeful. He didn't reach for the radio and neither did she.

"Trap 1 to Trap 2, repeat: we've lost sight of you. Please report!"

They continued creeping along in the shadow of the bus, heading towards downtown.

"Greyhound," their radio crackled. "We've lost sight of him. No radio contact either."

"Greyhound here," came the Brigadier's voice. "Trap 2, please confirm! Demmit, Doctor, I said you needed an escort!"

The Doctor just kept smiling. The radio continued spouting at them for some time with agitation until it was apparently decided the escort would continue on to the old hall in Chippenham and hope to find him there. The Brigadier sounded like he would be positively apoplectic…if he were not the Brigadier.

The Doctor turned to Jo. "Well, now that we're off the leash how about a little drive?"

"How little? Aren't we going to Chippenham?"

He smoothly negotiated a turn. "Of course not. I just set that out as a herring for our good friends from UNIT to tag after. I told the Brigadier I wanted some time to investigate first, and I'm quite determined to get it without their interference. We're going straight to Corsham, to the tunnels there."

"Tunnels?"

"Yes, there's an entire underground city there, didn't you know? It was limestone mines originally, started back in Roman times. Quite extensive. Turned into an underground network of tunnels during the Cold War. It has it's own lighting system, power and ventilation, everything, though it's since been essentially abandoned. The military base is over part of it, but only a part."

"Big enough to hide in?"

"It's over 120 acres, some sixty miles of tunnels. If our mysterious extra-terrestrial friends are to be found anywhere, odds are that's the place."

"Sixty miles?"

"Of tunnels, yes." They pulled away from the traffic as they moved out into the countryside. "Even has it's own spur of railway."

"It's all underground?" She couldn't quite believe something of that size was in England and she'd never heard of it.

"120 feet down, in fact," he said. "Your people build the most remarkable monuments to paranoia." They came over a rise and a long straight stretch of road alongside fields opened up before them. "Now hold on." She held on.

\---

An unusually short period of time later, for the distance traveled, found the little yellow roadster obediently bumping down a sloping ramp into an old quarry.

"Here we are," he said cheerily. "I looked over an old map of the place before we left. There should be an entrance just over there and we'll still be within a reasonable distance of the subterranean area beneath that military centre."

"How far is a reasonable distance?" Jo asked, still thinking of sixty miles of tunnels.

He didn't answer, but started to get out then turned back to her. "Perhaps you should stay here. This could be dangerous. We have no idea if they're actively hostile or what manner of guard they've placed on those tunnels."

"And who'll run the message back if something goes wrong? I'm coming with you."

"I can't allow it, Jo."

"I'll follow you," she warned stubbornly. "You'll have to tie me to the car."

"Jo."

"The Brigadier said you weren't to go alone."

"Jo."

"And since you left the escort behind, all that leaves is me."

"But…" He gave in with a sigh of frustration and leavened it with a small smile. "Oh, all right. Come on. But you have to stay with me."

"Of course!"

"And if I say run, run!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Come on already. Are we going in or aren't we?" She climbed out and started toward the tunnel, making him have to scramble out of his side to be sure she didn't get ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to an earlier time are from the First Doctor's episode, "The War Machines."

**8.**

The way down was easier than she expected, with a ramp to one side wide enough for a small car, bordered with a set of steps. There was a fair scattering of random debris, but nothing beyond normal neglect. They reached the bottom and peered around the corners but found nothing. It was cool and dim, trailing off into darkness in three different ways. After waiting a bit and hearing nothing, the Doctor tentatively flicked on his small penlight.

"This way," he said. She followed along, wondering if he really had any idea of where he was going and how far it would be.

"It should be only a quarter-mile to a main road, then right," he said in a low voice, "That will take us near some larger open rooms, near the centre."

She nodded, wondering not for the first time, if he read her mind. Trying to ignore the occasional drafts from other small tunnels going off to one side or another.

They walked along in the darkness silently. A drop of water hit Jo on the head.

"Oh!"

He whirled around and had her protectively inside his arm within an instant. "What is it?"

She gave him an embarrassed look. "Sorry, just a drop of water. It startled me in the dark."

He sighed and let her go. "Here," he said, taking her hand. His voice was surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry, I forget how frightened you humans so often are of caves. Stay with me. We'll be all right."

She might have complained that he was treating her like a child, except that right then she appreciated the gesture too much. Wordlessly, she hung onto his hand and they started forward again. She couldn't help but glance back at all that darkness behind them, the dim entry long out of sight.

"Didn't you say it had lights?" she whispered.

"Yes, see?" he played the penlight beam upward where it shone briefly off of a wire-enclosed bulb. "That's why this path has that electrical cable running along it, didn't you notice? But you don't keep the lights on in an empty basement."

"True… Look, Doctor, is that the main road you wanted?" Just ahead the tunnel they were in came to a tee with a wider one. Other paths went off from it, tall and narrow.

"Yes. Hush now. Let me go first." He nudged her back to the wall. She flattened herself against it and waited as he carefully edged up on the junction, the penlight shielded to only the slightest glow. The wall felt cold on her back. She heard a tiny clatter as he tossed a bit of debris out. After a moment he was back beside her again. "Seems quiet enough. Come on…"

They'd been walking for perhaps a quarter hour when he paused. She nearly bumped into his back. He quickly reached out and gently put a finger to her lips; she nodded understanding and they continued forward as stealthily as they could, the penlight shielded beneath the edge of his cloak. He then toggled it off and she realized belatedly that there was a dim light coming from somewhere up ahead, enough that they could make their way along. They were coming up on another junction.

There was a hollow to one side, and in it were… somethings.

They looked like giant, plumply rubbery rugby balls, less than a yard across, coloured so that they might have blended with types of stone. Each one had a seam, like a rugby ball crossed with a giant clam.

She pointed mutely, her eyes begging the question 'what are they?'

He nodded, made hand gestures that she didn't understand at all and pulled her along.

It wasn't until they'd crossed the nearby opening and slipped down a smaller, dark tunnel that he stopped and let her catch her breath.

"What were those?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure, but they were certainly alive and apparently either in some type of hibernation stasis or sleeping."

"They weren't…. eggs?" Jo swallowed.

"No, I don't think so. If our visitors are still attempting a colonization, they wouldn't risk their young at this stage of the game. Besides, eggs of that size would have to come from a creature much too large. Unless it were serpentine."

"I don't really want to think about that."

He patted her arm in apology. "If they were sleeping, they may be nocturnal. That gives us the advantage of time. Come, there used to be an emergency factory for airplane engines down here, during the war."

"Airplane engines?" she whispered in disbelief as she followed him

"It's been dismantled, of course," he murmured. "But that would be the most logical place for something to be fabricated from those customized parts. We should be relatively close. Stay with me."

"Just remember my legs aren't as long as yours," she hinted. He obligingly slowed down but continued to tow her along as they made their way down another tall, rounded corridor. This area continued to be dimly lit by the occasional working bulb and she was grateful for it. Able to see the worked limestone walls around her, it didn't feel so foreign or bewildering. She didn't know what he expected to find in a musty old underground factory, but at least whatever it was would be lit.

"There," the Doctor said. "Let's try these doors." The doors in question were along an area that had been partially filled in with cement to wall off the hallway. Some were very mundane metal office doors, such as Jo might have seen back at headquarters. Two in the center were taller and wider, corrugated to roll up and allow something larger to pass. The Doctor tried a couple of the small ones. The second was unlocked.

Nodding back at her, he carefully turned the knob and eased it open, putting his eye to the crack. After a moment, he eased it open a little further and slipped through. Jo followed, softly closing it behind them. They were in what had once been an office, now an empty rectangular stone room. The Doctor crossed to a window, still hung with dusty old-style blinds, that looked out on a larger, open space.

"Jo," he whispered, and beckoned to her. She peered out around his shoulder. Between the slats they could see there was something moving out there, a little ways away. Beyond it was a large supporting pillar of limestone that blocked their view of the rest of the wide cavern.

"What is it?" Jo whispered.

The creature was most unusual to her eyes. The head was wide and flattened, like a thick pancake with what appeared to be four small black eyes along the front and side. The body was thin and flexible going down to wide, flattish hips and two thin legs. It's arms and feet alike ended in what appeared to be a splay of tendrils, like the roots of a tree. It was not quite as tall as herself, and entirely alien.

"I think we've found the customers for our earlier visitors spying mission. They wouldn't blend in too well would they?"

"Maybe in Piccadilly," Jo said, trying to make light of her nervousness.

The odd being was inspecting a row of boxes, inserting its many-fingered handfuls of rootlets in to extract breadboards, such as the Doctor would sometimes use for circuitry in the lab.

"Their equivalent of a night-guard, I expect," the Doctor said. "Or day-guard. Looks like old Babcock was on the right track with those parts, doesn't it? We'll wait a little first; if it doesn't move on, we'll have to think of something else. Might as well make yourself comfortable."

She obediently sat down on the bare floor and hugged her knees, looking up at where he leaned on the wall, one eye on the alien outside. "You've seen something like them before?"

"Hm. I surmise they may be from Radiped. It's a star in what your astronomers would call the Corona Borealis, barely visible from Earth, really. It's also called Rad, which I believe roughly translates to 'Here.'

"Here?"

"Not too original, but you have to consider 'Earth' isn't either. Most planets suffer in having been named while their inhabitants were still in the early stages of creative thought."

"Have you been there? I mean, to Here? Rapidead?"

"Radiped. No. But while I never had the pleasure of touring that planetary system myself I did encounter some smaller creatures, similar enough to be from the same primordial soup, so to speak. Though they were kept as mere exotic pets; our friends here are obviously far more advanced. If they follow the same essential pattern the higher number of digital tendrils on their hands, the greater their age."

Jo wrinkled her nose. "I'm don't think I would care to grow more fingers as I got older."

"Oh, but there's a definite advantage, can't you see?"

She was looking down at her own small hands. "No."

"The children can't get into much trouble if they haven't fingers. The older and wiser they are, the more dexterous they become. The choice jobs go to the oldest."

"Secure retirement. And no tots in the biscuit-tins. Not so bad, I guess." Then she dimpled up at him. "Can you imagine what your hands would look like?"

"Yes," he smiled at her. "Positive mops. I'll make a you a seasoned student of alien races yet."

"Well, I admit I'd rather be studying them from a little farther away. Next time just buy me the picture book, will you?"

"Ah. He's leaving," the Doctor said. "At least I think so. That was quicker than I'd hoped."

"Good; this floor is cold."

"Yes, he is. He's going back out to that hallway. Quiet now."

They both waited, still and quiet. There was a slight shuffling noise in the hall, barely perceptible, then nothing. Still they waited. Just as Jo was ready to begin fidgeting, the Doctor nodded her towards another door, one that would open into the cavern.

It was locked, but easily undone.

They went through it and slipped along the limestone divider, cautiously coming around to duck behind some discarded crates. Jo pointed to the tags - they also bore the stamp of the Custom Supply for the Ministry of Defence. The Doctor didn't respond, he was busy scanning the ceilings for anything resembling cameras or other monitoring devices.

Coming to the end of the stacks, they carefully peered out.

More of the lights were working in this area, and there before them, spaced among supporting posts, lined up in shining rows beneath that light…

"What are they?" Jo whispered.

The Doctor's voice was emphatic and horrified. "War Machines!"

"Like Daleks?" Jo's eyes went wide at the thought. She looked fearfully back at the tank-like machines in their various stages of assembly.

He pulled her back behind the crates again. "No, not like Daleks. Daleks are intelligent, living beings. These are mere machines, although dangerous ones to be sure. They can't think for themselves but they can be programmed and directed."

"So you've seen them before."

"Yes. Very much so. In fact, I was instrumental in stopping them from being used against London, but that was…. many years ago…" He looked pensive at the memory.

"Was it…bad?"

"What? Oh no, no. We stopped them in time, redirected the machines. I was… " He looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry, Jo. Just an unpleasant reminder of clipped wings." He took a breath and looked back up at her, all business.

"They were supposed to destroy the remaining machines," he continued, now with some irritation. "Obviously some idiotic gun-happy nob in the government decided to stash a couple away for study instead. Probably intended to make weapons of them to make a name for himself."

"Then…"

"Then they were forgotten, along with all the other things abandoned here. Did you see those boxes we passed in the first tunnel?"

"No…"

"Swivel chairs. Dozens of them, still in their wraps. When the order came to mothball this locale, they did it with their usual military efficiency. The War Machines must have been abandoned then as well, seen as some sort of outdated, forgotten project. Perhaps something happened to the man who set them aside and he never passed the word. Hard to say."

"Well, whatever you did to those machines before, can you do it again?"

"Perhaps," he looked thoughtful. They use an electromagnetic controlling system. It was so long ago, what did we use? Oh yes, cables. We trapped one and I adjusted the neutron flow to allow it to be reprogrammed. Neutralized it, literally." He patted his pockets and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, making some kind of adjustment on it. "Hm. That's a lot of them to do by hand without being caught at it…"

Something hummed and hissed. They both froze. It hummed again, and clicked. The Doctor carefully looked back out over the gathered War Machines. One of them, only partly assembled, had something moving slowly around it. The smaller machine, mounted on a track, extended what appeared to be a hydraulic arm and a bit of blue flame jumped from it as it touched the waiting Machine. It moved a fraction and touched it again.

"Spot welding," the Doctor said. "It's not alive, Jo. It's a robotic welder. But that explains how such fragile creatures at the Radipeds could manage the assembly unaided. They don't appear to be a physically strong race, but I recall they did have a reputation for making good use of technology."

"So these War Machines, they're making more of themselves?"

"Not quite, though true robotic assembly certainly would speed it up. If they succeed in true mass-production, they could fill all sixty miles of these tunnels with War Machines within weeks. They would then have sufficient strength to launch a takeover of Britain. And probably be successful at it too."

"Take over Britain?" Jo was disbelieving. "Why?"

"Because it's an ideally situated advanced civilization located on an island. Once they held it as a colony of their own, then could use it as a base to extend their conquest to the Continent." He looked at her wide eyes.

"They would conquer Europe?"

"Europe would only be the beginning. Eventually they would conquer the entire world!"


	3. Chapter 3

**9.**

"Well," the Doctor said, adjusting a setting on his screwdriver, "No time like the present. You stay here."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take a look at one of those War Machines. From what I can see of them, the design appears nearly identical to the old version. If I can get closer to one of those incomplete assemblies, I'll be able to tell if they've the same weakness."

"But…" Jo began. He didn't listen, already working his way from post to pillar. "…what if some of them are already working?" she finished anyway.

Targeting a short row of four that appeared to be nearly, but not quite, complete, the Doctor seemed to be making good time. It was a matter of moments until he was on the back of one of them, tool in hand. It would have been easy…

If the one behind it hadn't suddenly rumbled to life. It lurched forward, closing the distance between itself and its mechanical brethren, a central light flickering to life to spotlight the intruder.

The clublike battering ram swung up, then downward, quickly enough to kill anyone caught unaware. The Doctor, however, was anything but unaware. Leaping down, he ducked and dodged nimbly to the side, forcing it to rotate to navigate around its fellow, swinging its bashing apparatus upward again.

He ducked behind a pillar. The club bashed into it with an echoing crunch, splinters of limestone spraying out as it hit. It hit it again. And again, and again, apparently having no other working offensive complete. The Doctor leaped to the back of it, rapidly applying his sonic screwdriver to the panel on its back.

There was a sudden silence as the Machine stopped, lowered its club and simply stood there, blinking.

He jumped back to the floor triumphantly. "There, that's done it!" He grinned over at Jo's hiding place, then his smile abruptly vanished.

"Jo, get down!"

She didn't question; enough time to do that later, but as she dropped down she spun to face whatever might be coming up from behind.

This one was grey-beige, it's wide, flattened head tilting slightly as it peered at her. She heard fabric rustling and the Doctor was suddenly there, near her. He gestured with his head; she slowly followed him, backing further into the factory area.

The creature, the Radiped, spoke. "Who are you?" it predictably asked. "You do not belong here." The voice was a bit raspy, but the carefully formed words were completely understandable.

Jo was astonished. "They speak English!" she hissed.

"Of course they do," the Doctor murmured back. "They're preparing to conquer and colonize England. They're not going to speak Chinese."

"Stop your walking! Be still!" it said, "Who are you?"

The Doctor tried being diplomatic. "We're unarmed. We mean no harm, sightseers, merely looking around."

"You stopped our machine. How did you stop our machine?" It kept advancing, and they kept retreating.

"Oh that, oh, it was nothing. I'm something of a mechanic, that's all. I work on robotics."

"You will stop. You will come with me."

"Thank you very kindly, but we're otherwise engaged." They bumped against a pillar and sidled along it until they could back again.

"You will tell us. You will tell us how you came here."

"Simple enough. Just the usual way, you know. Walking down the hallway and all that."

"Stop." It raised something up its multi-digit hands, something silver and oblong within them.

"Run, Jo! Around to the other side!" Dashing in a wide arc that kept as many pillars and boxes between them and the creature in question they reached the far door and pulled it open.

Three more of them waited there, weapons in their hands.

They skidded to a stop. "Now look here," the Doctor began, quickly scooping Jo behind him with one arm. "We don't want to …"

Whatever else he had been about to say was lost in the high-pitched crackling hum as two of the aliens raised their weapons: twin beams of purple light hitting him simultaneously. With a wince, he went frighteningly limp and collapsed to his knees, Jo grabbing at his shoulders to keep him from falling hard to the floor.

"Stop it!" she screamed at them furiously, making them step back a pace. "He hasn't hurt any of you! Why did you do that?"

They hesitated, but the one behind them repeated firmly. "You will come with us."

She shook her head in refusal. "He can't even walk now - and I won't leave him!"

To her relief, the Doctor was moving, trying to get up. "Just a temporary paralysing shock…" he said, slurring slightly. "Wearing off already…."

She helped him to his feet again; he swayed slightly.

"Come with us."

"Very well," his voice held a dignified resignation. "Since you make such very persuasive arguments… lead on."

They walked, with the Radipeds falling in, two ahead and two behind them, their weapons still kept at ready. Jo considered these strange objects.

"Those guns," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"They remind me of those harmonica-mouth-organ things, like street performers play. So many buttons on them."

"With all those fingers they must delight in buttons," the Doctor commented. He glanced around as they came back into the main factory area. "Only the older ones can use them that way."

They walked in silence for a few moments, passing row after row of finished and unfinished War Machines, gleaming lethally in the dim light.

Jo hesitated and looked back at the Radipeds behind them, who responded by significantly pointing their weapons towards her. "Where are they taking us?"

"Just keep walking," the Doctor said in a low conversational tone. "I'm not sure; there's really not much down here except more tunnels, and they wouldn't have their ship this far in. Probably set down in the quarry, guided into one of the outer entrances…"

"You would think the military would notice something like that."

"Hm. Never assume anything logical with the military, Jo. Thought you would have figured that one out by now. Still, I wonder what their interface is with the military base? It would seem they must have at least one man working on their behalf, they cannot possibly be passing for human."

"Hypnotism?" Jo wondered.

"No, I don't think so. Bribery, perhaps, but unlikely. Still, I've seen humans stoop to amazing lows."

"What if it isn't a man at all? I mean a human man? What if it's one of those nasty ginger ones with the black eyes that caught Mike and me?"

"Hm," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Possible. We assumed they were all aboard that ship of theirs when it lifted away, but it's possible, yes. It's feasible they may have hired some to continue the work. We'll have to notify the Brigadier, so he can check with the base staff."

"But in the meantime, what do we do?"

They came around a large dividing wall of limestone and concrete. Ahead of them, a boxy bunker-like room stood with an open door, another Radiped beside it. "I'm thinking we might start with not going into that room there," he murmured.

"Sounds good to me."

The aliens gathered behind them, nudging them forward.

"I say," the Doctor suddenly proclaimed more loudly. He turned and pointed back at one of the War Machines. "Look at that one there! Why, if you don't fix that, it's likely to blow a fuse the first time to turn it on. Here, just allow me…" He pulled out his sonic screwdriver as they waved their weapons in confusion.

"What is that?" one of them asked.

"A tool, merely a tool," he said with a disarming smile. "I want to fix your machine."

"He used it on our machines before. Give it to us!"

"Give us the tool!"

He held it out at arms length in front of him. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes! You will give it to us!"

He waved his hands. The sonic screwdriver disappeared.

Feigning astonished surprise he turned to the group of Radipeds. "Where did it go? What did you do with it? Give it back!" he demanded.

Their confusion was complete. "We did nothing! We did not take it! It disappeared, where is it?" they squawked, turning to look at one another.

"Oh, look! There it is! How did you do that?" he cried, pointing over at the nearest War Machine.

As one, the Radipeds turned to gape at the machine.

"Now, Jo!"

They took to their heels none too quickly, as the Radipeds soon realized they'd been deceived. They gave chase, crackling purple bolts discharging on the floor and walls around them as they dodged among pillars and crates back out to the main passage.

It was going well enough, all things considered, Jo thought. It wasn't the first time she had been shot at by strange creatures since she'd become the Doctor's assistant, after all, and she rather thought she was getting the hang of it.

Until he turned down a side tunnel and she didn't. Or she meant to, but by the time she registered it, her feet had already carried her past. Her boots skidded in the loose debris on the floor of the tunnel as she tried to double back, realizing too late the reason he had turned was the tunnel she was in came to a dead end with a locked metal grate.

"Jo!"

She heard him calling for her as those alien rugby-ball-pancake things came scuttling down the hall towards her. A purple bolt hit the floor near her feet; her legs tingling from the numbing energy of it.

Then he was in front of her, between her and the aliens, pushing her into the relative safety of the side tunnel. She ran, into the darkness, the sound of bolts cracking nearer.

Behind her, she heard him fall.

"Doctor!" Once more she doubled back. He was crumpled on the ground and for a moment she felt a terrible fear rushing through her, that he might be dead this time. She put a hand to his face, desperate.

"Jo…" he slurred faintly. "Go on. Tell the Brigadier… Go…!"

A purple bolt cracked into the wall near her head. She gasped, took a breath and left him, running for all she was worth. There was another turn, into a larger, passageway. The cold breeze and cables told her it was probably the same one they'd followed before.

Fearfully, Jo looked back one more time before turning her face to the long darkness of the tunnel. The blackness swallowed her up.

Her last sight of the Doctor was the silhouette of his limp form being dragged back down the hallway by the Radipeds.


	4. Chapter 4

**10.**

The Doctor looked around his prison, concluding it had once been intended as a bomb shelter, such as were popular during the Cold War. There were no windows, but he could see where various lights, ventilating filters and climate controls had once been. A single wire-enclosed bulb, a hand-cranked fan, empty shelves and a small privy closet were the only functioning items left. And the door, which was quite solid. It had no window either, only two louvered vents near the bottom for air.

He methodically worked his way around on the off-chance there were any hidden assets, or monitoring devices. There appeared to be none. A hand applied to the fan crank made it squeal in protest, blowing a meager breeze of dusty air.

He was still giving it some due consideration, wondering if the fan blades themselves could be extracted to form some kind of weapon, when the door swung back open.

A Radiped entered the room, weapon in hand. Behind him, another one swung the door shut again.

"Who are you?" it asked. The voice again was raspy and slightly slurred in tone, but undeniably in English.

"I presume you can understand me?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes."

"I am the Doctor. May I ask whom I have the honour of addressing?"

"I am the… Blue. You were among the machines."

"Quite a nice collection of War Machines you've put together there, Mr. Blue. Very specialized. Yes, well, I'm something of an experienced mechanic for that model. Perhaps I could help you with them?"

"No. There will be no treaties with the humans. We need no treaties."

"Did I say I was negotiating any kind of treaty?"

There was a pause. "No. There will be no treaties with the humans."

"Yes, so you said. But I didn't come with the intention of representing human governments. I'm merely offering you my services as an experienced mechanic. I will help you build your machines. Why are you so keen on building so many of them, anyway? It'll take a King's ransom of fuel, with a fleet like that. Very expensive."

"They will fight for us," the Radiped replied with surprising candor. "Soon, we will begin the settling of our new home."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, Blue, old chap, but that home out there is already occupied. The humans aren't likely to just give it up without a fight."

"We have been assured they are easily frightened and often subjugated," it said dismissively. "The machines will defeat them."

The Doctor leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You know, you might consider at least talking to them first, seeing as you've gone to the bother of learning their language and all."

"No. There will be no treaties with the humans."

"Yes. You are rather emphatic on that point, aren't you? Well, all right. No treaties then." He rubbed his hands together. "So, when do I start work? I can improve those machines of yours ten-fold if you'll let me."

The Radiped seemed unsure how to proceed with this declaration. "You are a machine builder."

"Yes. Machines are simply lovely things, don't you think?"

"Are there more of you? Are you alone?"

"Ah, now that's a complex question. Are any of us ever truly alone? Really, it depends on your philosophical outlook, doesn't it? And now that I think about it, a proper answer to your other question also depends on what you mean by more of me….do you mean me in particular, how others view me, my own self-concept or the general outlook of my people?"

\---

Jo climbed into the seat of the little yellow roadster thinking she'd never seen anything more friendly and homelike than Bessie just then. The overcast sky seemed bright after so many hours underground. Gasping, she waited a moment to catch her breath then reached for the radio switch.

"Trap 2 to Greyhound," she said. "Greyhound, this is Trap 2. Please come in. Over."

The radio static crackled to life. "Trap 2! About time! Where are you?" the Brigadier's voice demanded bluntly.

"We're at the quarry, by the base in Corsham. The Doctor's in trouble! We need help!"

"Are you under attack?"

"No, I mean… well, I'm not. But I have no idea what they might've done with him."

"They? They who?"

"Those alien things, down in the tunnels with the robots. They took him!"

"Demmit. Alien things, tunnels, robots, quarry. Check. Firepower?"

"They've only small handheld guns, I think, but the robots, I mean, machines are much worse if they get them running. They're building a whole army of them."

"Are these machines alive?"

"If you mean like the Daleks, no. I wondered that too. They're just machines, but each one is as big as a Beetle!"

"A beetle?" the Brigadier sounded bewildered by this addition.

"Oh, like a Beetle car, I mean. A Volkswagen. Sorry."

"Well enough, Miss Grant. Are you safe where you are?" the Brigadier asked.

"Yes, I suppose. I'm calling from the Doctor's car, it's in the quarry on the East side."

"Then stay where you are. We're sending reinforcements your way immediately. Greyhound out."

"But… the Doctor's down there!" Jo protested to the now-silent radio. "I've got to go back and help him!"

\---

The Doctor leaned back on the small bench and considered his options; unsure what to do about him, they'd finally left him alone. The one who called himself 'Blue' had brought in 'Grey' and 'White' when it's own attempts at questioning were ineffective, though why they had adopted simplistic Earth colours for their names they'd never explained. Hoping to give Jo all the time he could he'd simply run them in verbal circles until they wearied of it. They were essentially a timid race that wasn't given to torturing, thankfully - at least not directly.

He wasn't sure he would have fared so gently if they'd a machine to make it less personal. They obviously had no compunctions about setting their machines against the entire human population of Britain.

It was a good half-hour since they'd left him and closed the door; all was quiet. Out of boredom, he'd slipped his sonic screwdriver from its hiding place in his sleeve and gone around loosening things just for something to do, but now he quietly approached the door and lay down to peer out through the small louvered vents at the bottom.

Only seeing one guard, the one they'd called Grey, he dusted himself off and quietly manipulated the lock with his screwdriver. There was a tiny click. He pushed the door, and it swung open, cool and heavy beneath his hand.

The Radiped never even knew what hit him. There was a small "Hai!" and the creature fell, reflexively folding up inside of its protective pod.

"My apologies, Mr. Grey," the Doctor said with a small bow to the quiescent oversized Rugby ball before him. He looked out over the old subterranean factory floor, considering how to best slip past the War Machines.

\---

At the entrance to the factory area, Jo bludgeoned the guard on the back of its head with all her strength. The guard - a 'Mr. White,' if she had known it - folded up into a large, rubbery Rugby ball and stayed that way.

She'd initially been very proud of herself for managing to sneak up on the Radiped and to even get her hands on one of their weapons, but the multiple buttons needed to make it work proved impossible for her, even with both hands.

Frustrated, she pitched it to the side as the alien turned. She gripped the weapon she'd brought along from Bessie, a thick spanner. It was heavy, if nothing else.

And as the old saying went: when in need, anything can become a hammer.

Now to cross a veritable arena of War Machines…

\---

The Doctor was nearing the halfway point, and there'd been no alarms but he could hear something moving up ahead of him. He patted his pocket for his screwdriver and shook out his hands, ready to use them again if need be.

\---

Jo was nearly halfway across, dodging from pillar to pillar as she'd seen the Doctor do earlier. So far she hadn't seen anything, though the quiet War Machines were giving her the shivers.

Something flickered on the edge of her vision, and heart-pounding, she whirled with the spanner in hand. An iron grip came down on her wrist, immobilizing it mid-swing.

"Jo!"

"Doctor! Oh my goodness," she gasped. "You nearly gave me a heart-attack, sneaking up on me like that."

He eyed the heavy spanner in her hand. "I'd say I was the one in danger."

"Sorry. Couldn't find anything else in the car but an umbrella."

He quirked his eyebrows at this. "Death by bumbershoot. Fearsome thing."

"How did you escape?" She gave him a quick embrace out of sheer relief. "Are you all right?"

"I let myself out, and yes. Once the paralysis wore off, I was well enough."

She took breath again but he cut her off. "Come on, this isn't exactly the place to catch up."

She followed him back the way she'd come. Or rather, she meant to.

She hadn't gone but a few yards when one the War Machines suddenly lit up, it's headlamp blinding her eyes. Something hard struck her shoulders, knocking her off her feet. She heard the Doctor's voice calling her name as she tried to scramble across the cold stone floor. The War Machine rolled quicker than counted on; she gave a little cry, part pain, part surprise as it pinned one of her legs between it and its neighboring Machine.

Something clattered to the ground. The sonic screwdriver, just out of her reach. She looked up, her frightened gaze meeting the Doctor's frustrated one where he was pinned against a pillar, the wide metal basher against his shoulder and arm having forced him to release his precious tool, one of his feet immobilized against the wall. He eyed the Machine's gassing apparatus with caution as it waved vaguely in his direction.

Some Radipeds approached, though Jo noted the one she'd bludgeoned was not among them.

"Mr. Blue," the Doctor said formally, with a nod. "Forgive me, but I am unable to offer you a handshake under the circumstances."

"We did not wish our machines to kill you."

"We're most grateful for your thoughtfulness."

"It is not time yet."

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to explain that remark?"

The creature merely tipped its pancake head at him in response. In its multi-digit hand they could see a remote device, most likely for the Machines that held them.

But then another person stepped out from behind the Machines, holding the another directive device. A tall red-haired man, dressed in a dark blue military coverall. He had dark black eyes. Jo gasped as she recognized one of her assailants from Chippenham.

"It's them, Doctor!"


	5. Chapter 5

**11.**

At the sight of her former captor Jo suddenly twisted, throwing the heavy spanner with all her strength. It bounced off the man's forearms, knocking the remote device to the floor as he automatically tried to protect his face.

The Machine that held her promptly shot an energy bolt and the Machine that held the Doctor squealed weirdly as it a blackened hole suddenly appeared in its side, its reels twisting. The air stank of scorched metal and plastic. It had missed the Doctor where he was pinned by only a yard.

It was hard to say whose eyes were wider, hers or the Doctor's.

"Jo!"

"Sorry."

Seeing her expression he added, "Well, good try anyway."

"Thanks."

She didn't resist again but let the strange black-eyed man, expressionless in spite of her attempt, pull a rope from his pocket and bind her hands. He then picked up the control and released her leg, handing her rope leash to one of the Radipeds. She slowly got up and eyed the slender, pancake-topped aliens as they kept their guns trained on her.

"I say, that's private property!" the Doctor was protesting as the man pocketed his sonic screwdriver. "Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"This way," the Radiped he'd addressed as Mr. Blue intoned to Jo, giving her rope a little tug.

She planted her feet. "I'll only come if the Doctor comes with me."

"I'm coming…" the Doctor said, still sounding more annoyed than anything else. "You don't have to tie me up, you fool. I'm going along peacefully. Oh, all right. You are a most insistent ginger knave, aren't you? Not so tight!"

The Doctor sighed as the door shut once again on the little room. "Well, that was a brief hiatus. Here, turn your back. Let's see if we can get these ropes off."

Jo held up her own hands, the ropes dangling loose. "Mine are already off!" she smiled.

"You're an incorrigible show-off, Miss Grant."

"At least I do something well. Ah. Here you go. Those ginger fellows just can't tie a good knot, can they?" She tucked the bit of rope into her pocket.

He rubbed his wrists. "Not surprising. They have nine digits per hand in their natural form. It would be like being handicapped, only having five. Maybe that's why he gets along so well with the Radipeds; lots of fingers in common."

Jo sat on the bench and companionably patted the bench for him to sit too. "I feel positively left out, everyone has more fingers than we do."

"Plenty with less. Some with none at all," he replied. He sat down and stretched out his legs from the low bench. "How's the leg?"

"Stiff, and bruised up a bit, but I can walk on it all right. And your arm?"

"Well enough," he frowned. "Wish that blighter hadn't taken my screwdriver, though. Hm." He suddenly stood back up and went over to the old-style hand-cranked ventilation fan on the wall. He turned the crank and it obligingly squeaked and squealed as the blades propelled a weak breeze from their surfaces.

Jo plugged her ears. "Ooh, that's awful."

He kept cranking. "And as long as it's going, anyone listening in on us won't be able to hear what we're saying. So tell me now, why did you come back down alone? You should've waited for reinforcements."

Her brow furrowed defensively. "I was worried about you. You didn't look so good when they were dragging you off, you know."

"Mere temporary paralysis, Jo. I can take care of myself," he grumbled back.

"Didn't look it. Still," she nodded, "I did get the message out first. The Brigadier wasn't too happy, but he did say they were coming at once."

"Good. That much went right."

"So, while we have that racket going, what's our plan?"

"I'm still thinking on it. I'd hoped to disable some of those War Machines and reprogram them. Without any tools that becomes a little more difficult. Likewise getting back out of this room again. You didn't happen to pocket any other useful bits or bobs from the car?"

"No, just the spanner."

"Hm." He stopped cranking the fan and reached around it, fiddling with the casing. She watched curiously as with a sudden effort he pulled half the casing loose, exposing the dusty, somewhat corroded blades.

"What are you doing?"

He put a finger to his lips and gestured towards the door. Taking the hint, she got up and stepped forward to shield it from immediate view should anyone enter, but her curiosity was still piqued. She watched as the Doctor selected a blade and bent it slightly, then bent it again, back the other way. He continued working it back and forth. It suddenly snapped off in his hand.

He smiled over his shoulder at her as he replaced the casing, then turned the crank again. The squealing was even worse than before and Jo grit her teeth.

"Metal fatigue," he commented cheerily. "Bend nearly any basic metal enough and it will eventually snap."

"But…why?"

"For a tool. You never know. Could be useful for cutting ropes…"

"But you don't need to cut ropes. You have me," Jo teased, waggling her fingers.

"Ah yes. That escapology class was one of your finer achievements, wasn't it? Perhaps you can tell me how we're to escape from this room, then?"

"Take that blade…"

"Yes?"

"And use it to, um, pry out the lightbulb."

"Pry out the lightbulb?" He looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"To….get some electricity."

"And what would we do with that electricity?"

"I have no idea. That's where you come in. It's more interesting that just sitting here, don't you think?"

He shook his head, and pocketed the fan blade good-naturedly. "I think until you come up with something that won't just give us a shock and leave us in the dark to no purpose, I'll just hang onto this. Hm. I wonder if I could remove this crank."

"It would show," she pointed out.

"True."

"They should know better than to leave you alone with anything mechanical. You always take them apart."

"But I put them back together …," he protested mildly.

"And they're never the same again!" She sat down on the lone bench again and looked up at him. "So, now what?"

He considered for a long moment and ran his other hand through his hair. "In a week they could have enough of those machines to begin an attack, assuming they'll be stepping up the pace with being discovered."

"A week!"

"Not much time, I know. We'll need to put a stop to it somehow."

"I was thinking a week in this room! You don't happen to have anything to eat with you, do you?"

"No. You?"

"I had some biscuits in my purse but I left it in the car." She dug around in her pockets. "I've a peppermint."

"Only one?"

"We could smash it in half," she said generously.

"I'll think I'll let you have it. But they won't leave us here that long. We're a wild card, Jo. The one in charge of this venture won't like anything to be outside his control. You know, the Radipeds themselves are optimistic about this venture, but it appears they've done almost no research on this planet themselves. They're entirely relying on the reports and aid of our red-haired friends, and we have no idea if there's an alternate agenda there. We may be able to use that against them."

"You mean, they want it for themselves?"

"They've already an in with the Radipeds and these colonization efforts. Why not let someone else do the work then reap the spoils yourself?" He shook his head. "Conquest by proxy never goes well."

"You almost make me feel sorry for those pancake-rugby-ball things."

"I think they would be relatively just and humane in their own society. But they can be persuaded to other acts, which is not always a good thing. It's the intelligent ones that are behind those decisions, the more cold-blooded ones we have to worry about."

He let go of the crank and let it wind to a stop. The silence was a relief.

"Time for a rest?" she asked.

"For my ears, yes." He scrubbed at the sides of his head, fluffing out his hair.

The door swung open. A group of Radipeds stood ready with weapons in their hands.

"What did I tell you?" the Doctor said grandly. "Our escort awaits us already."

They stood once again before a row of War Machines, but this time they were running. The room they'd been taken to was otherwise empty, though they knew they were still near the now-familiar factory floor. The checked floor tiles reminded her of an old school lunchroom. Humming, the Machines waited together in a block of six, reels turning and lights blinking.

The Radiped with the most fingers stepped before them. "We cannot allow you to forewarn your people," Mr. Blue intoned. "And as you would soon have perished before our Machines, therefore your lives are negligible and part of the necessary cost of colonization."

"How generous of you," the Doctor said sarcastically.

Mr. Grey stepped forward. "We have been advised of a method by which your lives may still be of use for the new colony. You will be the first to test our War Machines tracking abilities."

"So that's it. Brought out of captivity to be used as targets. And whose idea is this, your own or someone else's?"

"Our associate advises us that it is best this way. The Machines are ready." They shuffled back and the red-haired man approached them again, his black eyes impassive, ropes in his hand.

"Hai!" the Doctor suddenly cried, and the two Radipeds that flanked him suddenly went down, retracting into their pods. Startled, the third tried to send a shot at him, but it went wide as the Doctor's hand chopped into its sinewy neck area, just beneath the wide head. The weapon fell to the floor, the body already curling and retracting in unconscious reflex.

It might have worked, except for the swift hands of their other antagonist. Whipping the rope up and over Jo's head, he swiftly pinned her against him and began to throttle her.

"Doctor!" she strangled out, her hands clawing at the rope. He spun around at her voice and took two steps toward them. Expressionless, the ginger man responded by pulling the garrote tighter.

The Doctor immediately stopped and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Let her go! You'll kill her!"

The rope released. Jo gasped for breath and staggered away from him toward the Doctor's side, coughing. The man gripped her wrist and pulled her back, rapidly tying her hands together and hooking them onto the barrel end of one of the War Machine's guns. He looked at the Doctor, cold and dark.

Jo hung in front of the barrel, her breath still wheezing, it had all happened so fast.

The Doctor gave in with resignation. He held out his hands, allowing the man to bind his wrists together once again.

"You don't care about those Radipeds, do you?" he murmured to him as he worked. "You're in this for yourself."

He received no reply. The creatures in question were only beginning to emerge from their pods, their fellows making small querelous noises around them.

Jo was released from the gun and then tied loosely to a concrete post, the Doctor tied beside her.

The Radipeds bobbed and shuffled. "Remember, you must test them well, we need to be sure of their capabilities," Mr. Grey intoned to them helpfully. "We will release them once we are away. You are bound loosely, you may free yourselves as you choose."

"As we choose?" the Doctor said. "Strange words to give prisoners taken by force for execution. And what if the Machines find some of your own people in this place?"

"They are programmed for humans. They will not harm us."

"Are you very, very sure of that?" the Doctor asked.

"We must go. Run well, and do not die too quickly. The statistical analysis would be best spanning a minimum of one of your hours." They shuffled away.

"How do you like that?" Jo rasped. "Don't die quickly? And here I was almost feeling sorry for the… the… oh, I won't even say what I'm thinking of them now."

Beside them, six War Machines blinked and hummed, waiting for their quarry to move.


	6. Chapter 6

**12.**

As they'd been told, the ropes were relatively loose, and it was a matter of moments until Jo had wriggled free. She turned to help the Doctor only to find he'd already cut his own bonds with the fan blade taken from their prison.

He put a hand to her arm. "Hold still, Jo. I'm not sure how long they expected those temporary leashes to hold, but as soon as we move the Machines will undoubtedly give chase."

She stood very still, the rope still swinging in her hand. "So, what can we do?" she whispered.

He considered. "If I had my sonic screwdriver, I could take on two of them well enough. But I haven't, and there's six. So…"

"So?"

"We need to get out of these tunnels, but that's expected. They'd probably catch us first. I wouldn't put it past them to have blocked off some of the exits. Instead what I intend to do is find where those deluded Radipeds have gone and see if I can talk some sense into them. We need to stay together. When I say run…"

Jo nodded mutely.

The Doctor reached slowly into his pocket and pulled out the severed fan blade. "Ready…" he murmured.

He suddenly flung it with precision accuracy. There was a high pitched squealing sound as the leading War Machine abruptly shot sparks, the thin metal wedged into it's spinning data-reels, jamming one of them and twisting the other so it waved up and down like a warped record.

"Run!"

The others shuffled and bumped each other, adjusting to move around their crippled leader. As each one passed, it lifted its basher to help knock the lead Machine aside, finally leaving it to limp in a perpetual circle.

The Doctor and Jo crossed the open area and ducked through a smaller doorway just as an energy bolt from one of the more ambitious machines struck behind them, blackened bits of debris peppering off of the door as the Doctor slammed it shut. He glanced up and down the hall. The open freight door to the left would expose them to the fire of the Machines, so they ran right.

Jo panted, trying to keep up with her longer-legged companion, and rubbed at her sore throat. Glancing back she saw a row of five War Machines, rolling out into the hallway and turning after them without hesitation.

"Doctor!"

He looked back, saw her panic and realized she was falling behind. He immediately slowed. Taking her arm he gently propelled her along, his voice matter-of-fact, as if merely discussing tea. "There now, we'll just keep looking ahead, won't we? After all, we've been in worse than this. It's all in a day's work. The Brigadier is on his way. Your throat feeling all right?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied, feeling calmer at his reassurances and slightly embarrassed at her fear.

"That's my girl. Let's see now…"

Jo had no idea where they were going, but at least the Doctor seemed to be running with a purpose. "No…. no….." he said as they ran along the maze of hallways and doors. "Perfect! This way, Jo!" He practically dragged her into another side tunnel, then had her go ahead of him.

She obediently ran into the darkness of the unlit side-passage, her hands out lest she suddenly meet a wall. "Why this way?" she panted.

"Just a little further. Good, good. Now we're out of range. We should be able to stop and rest a moment."

"But…."

"Just watch."

They slowed and leaned against the tunnel walls, catching their breaths. The nearing hum and rumble of the approaching Machines almost made Jo startle away down the tunnel again, but he stopped her with a touch, gesturing back to the entrance.

Silhouetted against the dim lighting of the outer way, the leading War Machine rolled into view. It turned to pursue them, the bright headlamp making them squint. It rolled forward… and stopped, it's sides scraping along the rock.

"It's narrows," the Doctor explained with a grin. "Now watch when it tries to get out."

The War Machine began backing up, then attempted to ram forward again, its bashers coming up to slam against the unyielding stone walls. Back and forth, back and forth. Behind it, two more War Machines were now caught up and orienting on their prey as well.

"Why don't they just look for another way?"

"Their response to anything being in their way is to bash at it or to set it afire. Stone makes a rather good deterrent to both. We can't be too complacent, they'll be looking for a way around soon enough, but this gives us some time."

The outer Machines rammed the first one forward. With a squeal of metal on stone, it wedged. Jo and the Doctor watched as their bashers came into play, ramming and bashing their fellow Machine until it was firmly stuck in the tunnel, like a cork in a bottle. Its beam swung up and down, playing over the walls and floor, its own basher now unable to do anything but smack ineffectually against the tunnel wall. A bolt of energy shot out and sizzled into the floor.

"Come on now," the Doctor said with a tap to her shoulder. "There's miles of rooms, but I expect we shan't have to go so far. Let's see if we can find where our gracious hosts have hidden themselves. Those things will try flames next."

"Flames!"

"Yes, you haven't seen that one yet because they haven't really had cause to use it. They can set almost anything organic burning."

Jo shivered slightly. Heading deeper into the tunnel, she had to look back at least once before they turned a corner. Sure enough, flames were now shooting into the air, accompanied by the repetitious thumping, bolts sizzling and metal squealing in protest.

"Well, two down," she said with shaky cheerfulness. "Only four to go!"

They followed the narrow passage until it suddenly opened into a wider, irregular room. A crevice far above let in a welcome hint of daylight over a pile of rubble where part of the ceiling had fallen in. "One of the older mine workings they expanded on," the Doctor noted. "See the pick marks? Ah, there, power cables. Good. This way."

"Maybe we should split up," Jo said. "If they're tracking us, that would confuse them, wouldn't it? And that way at least one of us might get out to the Brigadier."

"No." He said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But…" she began.

"I refuse to take the risk of you meeting up with those things alone." His tone brooked no argument. She nodded and kept trotting alongside him as they followed the cables to a larger way, then turned again. Jo, who losing all sense of direction, followed without further protests. She realized she could hear the War Machines again, echoing somewhere off in the distance.

"There!" The Doctor pointed. "I thought so. They've holed up near their ship."

"Ship?" She looked around in the darkness as if she'd missed something.

He waved a hand in the air. "Judging by the slant of that daylight, the type of power cabling, the direction of the pneumatic tubing and the slopes, we should be very near that railroad spur. It's the most logical place for them to have hidden a ship or shuttle as it would permit a launch position for liftoff."

"Oh…of course." Jo said as they began striding along again. "Do you hear machines?"

"They're still some distance that way, but yes we need to keep moving. However, first… I expect that door there….yes, that one. That will keep them away for a bit." They paused at a closed metal door and he inspected it briefly, then experimentally turned the knob. It moved. He smiled encouragingly back and gestured her forward as he opened the door.

If they'd wanted to surprise their captors they couldn't have done a better job of it. The aliens, who had been gathered around a variety of shapes on a low table, all shot to their full heights. Jo was almost as surprised as they were.

"Good afternoon," the Doctor said politely. "Might I have a word with Mr. Blue?"

The Radipeds shuffled unsurely, some fingering weapons beside them. After a moment, the one called Blue stepped forward. "How did you locate us?"

"Never mind that, suffice it to say I have. Mr. Blue, sir, I have something to say that you need to hear."

"The Machines…" Mr. Blue began. Behind him another alien brought forward a tablet with a screen, presumably how they were tracking them. Mr. Blue partly turned to examine it.

"You don't need that to know that the War Machines will soon be out in that corridor," the Doctor pointed. "But they can't reach us yet. And I wasn't leading them here to cause you harm, it was just the only way to get you to listen to me for a moment. Do you consider yourselves civilized and intelligent beings? If so, you will hear me."

They shuffled their rootlike digits silently.

"You have a goal to reach. You have plans to carry out on this planet, I realize that. But consider my words first. If they are worthless to you, then… send us back out and let us be nothing but targets for your machinery afterwards. We'll go back out without any trouble, I give you my word, and we won't seek to harm you. Will you hear me?"

"You will address myself only," Mr. Blue intoned with dignity; but he was not so sure that he didn't go to the table and pickup one of the oblong weapons first. "Come."

"My thanks, sir. Jo, go ahead and have a seat. They won't hurt you." The rest of the Radipeds considered her gravely from their table as she settled awkwardly onto a bench. After a moment, they went back to doing something with the shapes on the table. Jo looked around for any sign of the ginger-haired man, the only one she was honestly afraid of. He was nowhere to be found.

Across the room, the Doctor sat on another bench so he wouldn't loom over the smaller Radiped leader.

"Speak these words," the alien said in its raspy, soft voice. It gestured with its weapon.

"Very well. I shall be quite to the point. In brief, I think you've placed far too much trust in that red-haired operative of yours. It surprised me, indeed, to find your people even considering this planet. Are you fully cognizant of Earth's many dangers?"

"We know of the dangers, and they are easily overcome. The humans will be easily overcome."

"You think so? Why, even among the humans there is a lower, stronger, violent subclass called the 'Rugby player'. Have you been given sufficient warning on the Rugby players?"

"Rugby-players? I do not know of this. Tell me of them, if it is not a deception."

"It is not, I assure you. I've seen them myself. Rugby players are quite real, and frightening even to their fellow humans. They live for a sole passion of capturing Rugby-balls. And this is your danger. When your people are enclosed in your protective pods, especially your younger ones, they almost perfectly resemble the British Rugby-ball. The Rugby players would be an ever-present danger to your kind and would hunt them mercilessly."

"But they are human?"

"Some regard them as so, yes."

"Then they are not a danger. The War Machines will eradicate and overcome the humans. Even these…"

But the Doctor continued, with drama. "Rugby players," he emphasized. "but only with great strength and daring. And even after you have brought all of this island into your colony, you will have to exist with its other, non-dominant life-forms. And Britain is known for some that are terrible indeed. They live for nothing more than to destroy and consume one another."

The Radiped shifted its hold on its weapon, then shifted it again.

The Doctor noted it. "But I am sure such a wily people as your own would find some way to survive, though…" He widened his eyes dramatically and gave a gasp. "What of voles?"

"Voles?"

"Terrible creatures, voles. They burrow into the earth, you never know where you might find them. None of them have found you here?" He looked around as if expecting them to come from the shadows around them. "It must be because of the stone," he murmured. "Yes, the stone… but once you are up on the surface …." He shuddered. "What a terrible death, to be eaten by a pack of voles, root first."

His captor's toes were curling up, away from the ground. "We will find a way to defeat these creatures also."

"Will you? I doubt it. Short of remaining forever underground, and even then there are centipedes, earthworms, poison fungi. The humans haven't managed to defeat them, even after all these years. Earth people die every year from animal attacks, bites, poisons and maulings…. The jungles, deserts, forests… even the polar ice caps are positively brimming with violent, hungry animals, biting insects, poisonous plants and creeping vines. Teeth, claws, stingers - and they can pry anything open." He gave a shiver. "It's a difficult life, trying to keep them away from the young. And did your report warn you about Britain's hedgehogs? I should certainly hope so."

"Hedgehogs?" the Radiped shuffled nervously. "There was no mention of hedgehogs."

"Really? I wonder if your operatives were wanting to keep the Earth for themselves, the way they conveniently left out so many dangers for your race. Hedgehogs are fearsome, common, coming out at night. Like you, they are able to enclose themselves for protection, but their spines would be lethal, and your fingers resemble their favorite food."

"Our fingers?" the Radiped was horrified. There were few things they treasured more than their multitude of rootlet fingers and the Doctor knew it.

"Besides, do they really think the red-haired ones will only sell the information about Earth to your people? Once the Radipeds are busy with their colonization and have weak younglings growing here, on Earth soil, someone else is bound to come next. Yes, they will wait for your young first, wait for you to be weak. Someone ruthless, maybe even…" He paused to give the word maximum effect, "…the Daleks."

"Daleks?" there was familiarity, and fear, in that one word. Yes, the Radipeds knew of the Daleks.

"They've been here before. Who's to say they shan't decide to return, now that the violent, ruthless humans are out of the way and it's only held by Radipeds? Your people are not warriors. You know it, and so do the Daleks."

"The Daleks may come here?" It appeared they'd successfully hit a nerve. Mr. Blue shuffled his various digits nervously.

"Yes. They already keep a watch on Earth, didn't you know that? They're waiting for the Earth people to be weak enough to take over. But the humans are not weak. How long to you think they will wait once they know the only resistance is from your machinery? The Daleks are not afraid of machinery."

"Do you speak truthfully?"

"I have fought the Daleks, here on Earth, myself. I know this to be true. I am truthful, but I fear your ginger friend is not. Their report to you very deliberately left out the greatest dangers to your race. I would not trust him."

"Why would he do this? We have paid well."

"Think about it. After your people were consumed, what would they do with that report on Earth? I can tell you. They'd simply sell it to another gullible race, wouldn't they, and be paid again. And what survivors could warn them off?"

"This is… He cannot… The agreement…." At a loss, the creature slipped into sounds the Doctor couldn't understand but could guess at.

"A betrayal," he said. "That's what the English word would be. And it is." the Doctor said with all the sincerity he could. "I'm so glad I've been able to stop this tragedy from happening! If you'd gone above and encountered voles… Well, it hardly bears thinking about."

There was a stir behind them and a small gasp from Jo. The Doctor looked over to see the red-haired man coldly regarding them. He set down a sack of tools and slowly pulled a rope from his belt.

"You will go out," Mr. Blue suddenly declared.

The Doctor's face fell. "You're sending us back out there?"

The one called Blue waved a multi-fingered hand at a side hall. "There is another way. You will leave us now."

"My thanks, sir." The Doctor got up and bowed to the alien, then crossed to Jo. "It's time for us to go, my dear."

"Back out there?" She looked at the ginger man's rope fearfully. "But Doctor, we can't! They're…" He stopped her with a gesture.

"No words. Come along. This way." Nodding a polite farewell, he led her out by the side-door. The man watched them go, but didn't follow.

They stepped out the door, a cold breeze hitting their faces. "They need to hold a council, I think," he said in a low voice. "They've a decision to make and I hope they will not be persuaded by their associate this time." They rounded the corner. "Seems we're on the other side of that corridor. And look," he pointed. "Look there."

Jo gasped. "A space ship! That's got to be their ship, Doctor!"

"Yes," he gave her a little triumphant grin. "Just as I said. And right on the railroad spur."

"Maybe we should hide in there."

"In the ship? Jo, are you mad? What if they lifted off? And besides, I need them to trust me. Being caught as a stowaway wouldn't encourage that at the moment."

"Well, we have to go somewhere. Up that railroad spur is my vote. It goes outside, doesn't it?"

"Of course it does." He considered a moment. "But I have no desire to be caught in the backwash of a ship's propulsion system. We need to either double back into the tunnels or take a gamble on getting to the surface and clear before that ship can warm up and lift."

"They're leaving then? For sure?"

"No, not for sure but I've certainly done my best to put the idea in their minds. Let me take a look at that system…," he strode closer, Jo trotting to keep up. "Yes. Hm. An older style..."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's a slow warmer, if that's what you mean by good. But not too slow. Let's go."

\---

Never had the sun seemed so bright and welcoming, even if it was still a chilly and overcast day. They gratefully clambered over the last of the railroad ties into the grasses and burrs of the weedy slopes around the tunnel. Jo slowed, then gratefully sat down on a boulder.

"We can't stop yet, Jo," the Doctor said, hauling her back to her feet. "We need to at least put a ridge between us and this tunnel or we could be hit by the backwash."

"Backwash be hanged, my feet hurt," Jo grumbled, but she came. They climbed up and over, then descended to a collection of boulders on the other side.

The Doctor indicated the boulders. "There you go. This should shelter us well enough." He turned from where his companion was gratefully throwing herself down among the rocks. She pulled off a boot and rubbed her foot.

"Next time we're going to be running from aliens who are trying to kill us, I'm bringing different shoes," she commented.

Whatever he may have replied to this was lost in a sudden growing roar. He ran back to where she was, pulling her down low into the cluster of rock. "Stay down! Here it comes!"

The air pushed before the ship howled in protest and with a sudden explosion of sound the Radiped ship lifted into the English sky. Jo and the Doctor covered their ears and huddled behind the boulders, wincing as dust and debris spattered and stung them.

When it was finally past, Jo cautiously looked up from the ground. The Doctor's white hair was shining in the muted light above her. He was watching the silver shape lifting up, disappearing through the low clouds with a lingering deep rumble.

"That man…" Jo said.

His hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Either they took him or left him behind. If he's here, we'll find out soon enough. Now put on your boot. We've still got a ways to go."

Jo groaned. She pulled it back on and they picked their way along through the scrub brush and grasses to the neglected dirt road. They could see one of the excavated barren walls of the quarry, but their steady pacing had only just brought them to the edges of it when they heard the sound.

"Doctor?" Jo looked at him with fear.

"As I feared," he nodded. "War Machines!"


	7. Chapter 7

**13.**

Along the ridge at least two military trucks were visible, and heading down into the quarry itself a heavy-duty jeep with a gun mount could be seen, a man ready at the gun. Dimly, the sounds of soldiers shouting orders came over the now-familiar rumble and hum of the War Machines.

"Look, there's the Brigadier," Jo pointed. They could just see him on the quarry's ledge ahead of them, binoculars to his eyes as he snapped orders into a radio.

"They're shooting at them, of course," the Doctor observed as they began working towards him through the brush. "Won't do them any good. War Machines are impervious to standard gunfire."

"Why did those Machines go outside, off into the quarry?" Jo wondered.

He glanced back over at her. "They're looking for humans, remember? The soldiers are drawing them on, though they don't know it." His eyes flickered beyond her.

An energy bolt cracked into the rocks where Jo had just been and she screamed, though whether from the surprise of the bolt or from being literally picked up and thrown to the side was hard to say. The Doctor steadied her. "Sorry, Jo," he said briefly. "We have company."

He carefully edged her back, keeping himself between her and the War Machine grinding towards them over the ridge they'd just climbed. As it paused to incinerate a shrub in its path, he grabbed her hand. "Quickly, this way."

Once more they ran, back off the roadway they'd just reached, scrambling over another brushy small ridge it curved around.

As they picked their way down the other side he spoke quickly. "Here's what we'll do. We'll run for the quarry. The Brigadier left his jeep there at the top of the ridge. I'll split off from you there. When you reach the edge, run right along it, close to the side. Head for the Brigadier; he can shelter you, at least for a bit."

"Got it. And you?"

"I'll see if I can't send it down into that quarry a little more quickly than bargained for."

"But…" she protested as they reached smoother ground and began running again. "What if it doesn't follow me?"

"It's still on its programming to destroy humans," he said. "It doubt it wants the likes of me."

"All this time….those things… were only after me?" she panted in disbelief.

"Possible, though unproved. Now go! That way! Keep to the edge!" He pulled away from her, sprinting for the Brigadier's jeep. She ran for all she was worth to the ragged edge of the quarry and then along it, trying very hard to not think about what it would be like to fall. Behind her she could hear the rumble of the War Machine coming down after them.

She reached the ledge and ran along it. "Brigadier!" she called, though it came out in more of a gasp. She hadn't much air left for shouting.

"Sir! Look!" The soldier beside him pointed and even briefly tugged on his sleeve. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart turned, dropping his binoculars on their strap.

"Miss Grant!" he shouted in spite of the distance. "Where's…" His eyebrows jumped as the Machine rumbled into view around the ridge, heading straight for her. "Another of them…."

Jo saw the Brigadier shouting something and soldiers began moving. An energy bolt slammed into the ground behind her; she didn't even want to know how close it might have been. Adrenaline pounded through her, roared in her ears, and the bottom of the quarry looked very far away.

"Hey!" she heard a soldier, protesting. "What are… !" There was a thud and a jeep roared to life.

The Brigadier's jaw dropped as a jeep… his own jeep!…his new jeep!…. suddenly spun out from where he'd left it by the ridge and revved hard, accelerating straight towards the quarry cliff. He'd barely registered over everything else happening that someone had the astounding chutzpah to steal his jeep right before his eyes when it rammed straight into the side of the alien tank thing that was pursuing Miss Grant.

There was a loud crunch, most of which was jeep, as the maniacal driver flung himself off to the side. The machine skidded sideways at the impact then tipped right over the edge, tumbling downward with bits of metal and arcs of flame flying off of it as it went.

The maniac jeep-thief was staggering up from the ground. He was dressed in velvet and had white hair.

"Doc- _tor!_ " the Brigadier roared. He himself didn't know if it was congratulatory for defeating the machine and saving Miss Grant's life or scathingly bombastic that his advisor had had the gall, the complete and unmitigated gall, to wreck the Brigadier's own jeep, and while he watched, at that. Whatever its impetus was, it was loud.

Jo had stopped, bent double from running, the Doctor now limping towards her. Everyone's eyes were on them, and the teetering, ruined jeep.

"Keep an eye on those things in the quarry!" he snapped at his men and strode rapidly towards his maverick associates.

\---

"We can bring in more firepower," the Brigadier continued as they looked out over the quarry. While he'd been glad to find his missing associate and the young lady intact, and glad to be rid of one of the alien menaces, he was still obviously irked about his jeep. At least obviously irked to those who knew him well.

The Doctor knew, but ignored it. Jo just gave him another apologetic shrug, though whether for the jeep or for her mentor's behavior it was hard to say.

The Doctor was making an impatient gesture. "I told you; gunfire won't stop them, Brigadier. They're armored!"

Lethbridge-Stewart didn't look as if he quite believed him. "Very well, but the limestone isn't. If we lure them back down into those tunnels, we might arrange a cave-in…."

"That would require a man to draw them down. And I advise you to stay in the open air. The Machines will gas whomever they find, otherwise."

"Gas?"

"Yes, they do that too, when firepower and flame don't meet the need. I've known them to take down an entire squadron of men that way in the past."

"In the past…?"

"He's stopped them before," Jo supplied.

The Brigadier looked at him curiously. "I'm to assume on some other planet?"

"No, here. In London," the Doctor snapped. "It was your own incorrigibly bombastic government that kept some to be duplicated. The point is it would be best to deal with the activated ones in the open. There'll be plenty more for you to play at your bombing and gunnery with later."

"So. If they're so well armored, what pierces them best?"

"They're quite capable of piercing each other," the Doctor said. "That was demonstrated to us earlier."

Alistair tapped his fingers, thinking. "Could we cannibalize the arms from the one you so efficiently tumbled off the ledge?" He gave a significant glance to where three hefty young men were yanking his ruined jeep back from the precipice.

The Doctor contemplated his ruffled cuff instead. "Yes, I think you could; fine thinking, Brigadier! But you'll need a significant power source, and the right configuration…"

"I'll leave that part to you then. What will you need?"

"Bessie would work," the Doctor said immediately, showing he had already been considering the same idea. "I could rig something up if you've some cable in any of those trucks. She's still outfitted for that force-field."

"Didn't you take that out?" Jo said, "That big battery thing?"

"Big battery?" the Brigadier asked.

He gave Jo a nod. "Yes, the larger one. But she carries a smaller version for her own anti-thievery shield. I could adapt it."

"Where is your car, anyway?" the Brigadier asked. "Miss Grant told us it was on the east side of the quarry, but we haven't seen any sign of it."

The Doctor looked up at him sharply. "What? What do you mean, no sign of it?"

"Exactly that. I don't know where you thought you put it, but it wasn't in the quarry."

"But it was!" Jo and the Doctor both protested together.

The Doctor left them and ran to the ledge, then turned as if he would run right on down into the quarry, alone.

"Doctor!" The Brigadier called. "About that gun! Hold up, blast you - those demmed alien tanks are still down there!"

Distracted, the Doctor looked back at him indignantly. "My car! Some blaggard's stolen my car!"

"Doctor!" the Brigadier repeated firmly. "Keep your composure, man. We have robots to deal with. What can we use for power besides that car? Will one of our trucks be sufficient?"

"Maybe she's down the tunnels," Jo offered.

"Who would take her down the tunnels? And how?" He paced, gesturing in frustration. "She can't just be started up and driven off like some common lorry!"

"Doctor!" The Brigadier said impatiently. "Men are in danger! Can you still use the gun off that wreck or not?"

"What? Of course I can. And I've got to see where my car's gone."

"What will you power it with?"

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. "Have you any of those portable generators in those trucks? Good. I want two of them. And cables, whatever you have, the heavier the better. And tools. And some men, I'll need it levered onto its other side to reach it…"

Glad that his advisor was back on track, the Brigadier nodded and set about relaying this list of requirements. "Very well. Now, how will…"

"… then we can search for tyre tracks. She can't have been gone long. Jo, you radioed from her, didn't you? Of course you did, you brought the spanner. We'll have to search those entry tunnels…"

Lethbridge-Stewart quietly ground his teeth.

\---

Using the fallen Machine as a shield while the armed jeep drove around the far end of the quarry as a distraction for the three remaining ones had been a surprisingly successful suggestion, though they could hear the Brigadier snarling at the men in the jeep over his radio every time they got too close. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and the men seemed to be turning thrill-seekers the longer it went.

The Brigadier was turning so irascible that Jo opted to come down with the workers and help get the gun and generators rigged up, in spite of her sore feet. The Doctor had been glad of her help, grumbling loudly that the soldiers didn't know one end of an anathermatic polyhedronic distribution regulator from the other. Considering what he was working with at the time was nothing more complex than a set of wire cutters and a gas torch, she just smiled and set to uncoiling cables.

The linked generators finally sputtered to life, the apparatus hummed and the Doctor signaled that the gun was ready. "Get those men out of the way!" He shouted, waving toward the quarry.

The Brigadier barked into his radio and the jeep left off its circling and weaving to run past them up the ramp. The Doctor heard one of the men aboard it whoop with a very unsoldierly demeanor.

"Hope the Brigadier didn't hear that," Jo observed. "They think it's a game, don't they?"

"They haven't seen them in action yet, let's hope they don't." The Doctor replied.

He adjusted the heavy gun they'd mounted on the top of it's former owner and sighted down its barrel before tightening a bolt. "There. A bit limited. We'll have to wait until one of them comes in range, within the sites…. He put a hand to a switch. "Jo, be ready to throw that lever there. It'll overload if it runs too long. You men," he addressed the remaining two soldiers who were with them. They looked at him expectantly. "Just stay out of the way."

They watched as the War Machines trundled towards them, their bashers occasionally waving up and down, headlamps searching them out now that the jeep's distraction had ended. "Wait…..wait….." he said. "Now, Jo!"

She pushed the heavy lever down, sending two generator's worth of power surging into the gun, which sparked slightly, the pitch rapidly building beyond their hearing. Peering over the top of their shelter, he hit the switch. A bright power bolt shot out and the foremost War Machine gave a squealing, crackling noise as a gaping hole appeared where its headlamp had been. Still, it limped forward, its own gun letting loose a bolt that hit the rock above their heads. The soldiers ducked as chunks peppered down on them. Ignoring the gravel that spattered his jacket, the Doctor hit the Machine a second time, a second ragged hole appeared. The lighted panel on its side blew outward in a spurt of flame and it ground to a halt, dead.

One down. "Power off, Jo!" He rapidly loosened the adjusting bolt, tweaked it and tightened it down. "Wait….On!"

Again the gun hummed to life. He sighted and sent another bolt after the second one, but the Machine turned and it hit it off-center. Though the basher dropped, apparently crippled, its gun came up with a reply. The dead Machine hulk that sheltered them suddenly rocked, smoking and crackling as a bolt slammed into it.

"Doctor!" Jo cried as a snap of electricity arced from the generator connections. He didn't even look back, but intently aimed and shot again.

There was a grinding shriek and the second Machine limped to a stop, it's data reels smoking from the hole blasted just beneath them, its lights flickering off.

Two down. The third one would soon be in range. "Power off, Jo!"

Jo reached for the lever and then screamed as the connections between the generators arced and popped, one of them suddenly billowing smoke as it overloaded. The Doctor moved, as if to push her aside and do something about it when the second one gave a bang and joined its companion in a smoking death. The gun went silent.

"The gun! It's dead!" one of the soldiers said, in that irritating way humans had of stating the obvious.

The Doctor might have made a scathing remark along those lines if he hadn't had to deal with an aggressive War Machine bearing down on them. A power bolt hit the metal hulk again, rocking it violently. Another exploded in the rock just over their heads. One of the soldiers gave a cry as a large chunk split off and fell, hitting the arm he'd thrown up and then half-pinning his leg.

They all turned to heave the rock off of him. "Get him out of here!" the Doctor ordered the remaining man, and gestured to the ramp. "Go with them, Jo, I'll try to distract it."

"But, Doctor!" Jo cried in protest as the soldiers headed for the ramp with his arm around his comrade and the Doctor headed the opposite way. She took a determined breath and ran after him.

He grabbed up the cables and did a quick check on the smoking generators, looking back with surprise when he realized she was still there.

"No good. Run, Jo! Back up the ramp!" He threw down the cables impatiently and ducked as another blast fired towards them, slamming into the corner of its fallen companion Machine. It was getting too close.

"You need to get out of here!" He took her arm in a light grip, turning her to the ramp.

"But I can't! You're not human!"

"What?" He looked baffled at this declaration.

"You said it might not follow you!" She looked up at the soldiers, limping up the slope. Others were coming down to help them now, but they still had far to go. The War Machine hesitated and began turning to follow them. She ran away from the ramp.

"Jo!" he cried with horror as the Machine immediately swiveled to follow her, its bolt hitting just behind where she'd ducked back into the shelter of the dead one. He realized it was ignoring him; she was right. He was frankly a bit surprised.

He ran back. "Stay with me, then," he said briefly. "We'll head for that tunnel entry over there," he pointed. "We can loop back to the railroad spur, so it can't trap us."

"Then?" she asked as they got ready to dash from their cover.

"I don't know yet, but it'll give us time."

They ran. He took them in an erratic line, taking advantage of the Machine's slower turning abilities. A blast hit the earth behind them, to the left. Somewhere up above them the Brigadier was yelling something, they had no idea what.

"Doctor!" Jo suddenly pulled from his grasp and doubled back, scooping something up off the ground.

"Jo! What are you doing?"

"Look!" She panted and held something up as she ran back to him.

"My sonic screwdriver! I'd give that up for lost." He was genuinely delighted, taking it from her hand as they ran again. "Now we can shut that thing down." He kept moving, but suddenly frowned down at his tool. "But why was it out here?… That ginger chap had it. What was he doing outside?"

They hadn't time to wonder further. A blast from the pursuing Machine hit again, much too close for comfort, the grit stinging them.

The Doctor flipped a setting on the screwdriver and looked back at their pursuer. "Jo! Run for that rock!" He gestured to a medium-sized boulder. "It should turn to follow you, don't worry - I'll stop it."

Jo, her wide eyes betraying her doubt at his assurance, nevertheless split away from him and ran for the dubious shelter of the waiting boulder.

Behind her, the War Machine's servos hummed as it swung to follow her trajectory, it's gun whining as it charged again.

The Doctor circled in the opposite direction, coming around behind it at a dead run. He leaped and grabbed onto it's back awkwardly, clinging as it belatedly swung its basher around in an attempt to knock him off. He quickly loosened the small panel under the back of its head.

Jo reached the boulder and hunkered behind it, watching as the Doctor clung to the Machine's back; it had registered that something was there. He determinedly hung on and ducked as it spun its bashers, randomly flaming and loosing off bolts of energy to the front. A misty gas began to spout into the air, then abruptly it went dead. The bashers drooped and the lights dimmed to nothing.

The world suddenly seemed very quiet.

The Doctor jumped down from the Machine's back and came towards her, dusting grit from his jacket and sleeves. He smiled at her.

"Well, that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

\---

The Brigadier stood with his arms folded, watching as his formerly new jeep was chained to a towing rack behind a truck. He rocked on his heels, grumbling dictation at the soldier who stood beside him with a clipboard in hand.

"UNIT will personally oversee the destruction and melting down of the remaining dormant machines. All plans, molds or other related paraphernalia related to the manufacture are to be destroyed. Make a note on follow-up for that one. A recommendation of merit to Mr. Babcock of Custom Supply. I want eight copies of the directives on my desk by tomorrow morning, requisition forms, contact information for the Corsham base."

"Yessir."

"I need to know just how many…" He looked around with a frown. "Where's the Doctor got to?"

"He's in the quarry sir, er, crawling around on the ground."

"What? What the devil is he doing that for?"

"We believe he's looking for tyre tracks, sir. And there was something about a screwdriver."

"Blast it! He'll be of no use to anyone until he's found that confounded lemon perambulator of his."

"Yessir."

"I suppose we'll have to help."

"Yessir."

"Demmit."


End file.
